


Ready or Not

by wickedrum



Category: Halt and Catch Fire
Genre: Angst, Depression, Fix-It, Friendship, Multi, suicidal behaviour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-15 01:34:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4588023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedrum/pseuds/wickedrum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A couple of weeks after Joe calling the Clark house about getting back into business together with Gordon, Season 2 finale, the engineer feels guilty about how things ended with Joe and decides to pay a last visit. Joe/Gordon, predominantly friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Exposure

**Author's Note:**

> Remember when it was only headcanon/fanon that Joe had suicidal tendencies? Before we got the pilot transcript and his letting go of the wheel in the season finale.

Disclaimers: Unfortunately I don't have a Lee Pace. Not the original, and not any of his characters. Written for enjoyment only.  
Genre: Hurt/Comfort.   
Rating: T  
Warning: little bit graphic at one point. 

Chapter 1: Exposure

Gordon had called the apartment several times with no luck, uneasy. He had a bad taste in his mouth in regards to that last phonecall between them and a feeling of wrongness nagging at him. ‘You’re going to work for Mutiny?’ The engineer didn’t have to see his ex partner in crime to imagine his disappointment and feeling of betrayal, or have it reinforced by the frustration, shock and regret in his voice. Gordon liked to imagine himself as someone with morals and he didn’t mess up often, not on purpose, set out to hurt people, or accepted that his actions will have that effect. Cameron has basically gutted Joe, and given the extent that her actions affected the younger man both on an emotional and professional level, she may as well had him literally gutted. That his wife not just condoned such an act, but took part in it, he would intentionally ban from his mind, there was no way he could accept that and still be able to give their marriage a chance. Gordon didn’t want to lose Donna. He did love her intensely once and a bond like that doesn’t just disappear, at least not yet. What they had was worth fighting for, even if they could get it back partially. 

It bothered him however to be placed in the same box as Cameron and Donna, he didn’t want Joe to think his last remaining friend had been disloyal to him too. The spectacled man wanted to go over and explain himself, relay to Joe what the reasoning behind his choices was, assure him that he will still try to provide support if necessary, even if it was only from hundreds of miles away and on the phone. Their friendship wasn’t over just because he agreed to give some of his expertise to Mutiny and he wanted to make sure Joe knew that. 

Having knocked on Joe’s apartment door for minutes, a ball of apprehension trembled in his stomach. He had never seen Joe so lost, resigned and pained as last time he’d visited here that the thought of the taller man doing something desperate didn’t leave him alone. He had to get in, it was decided. Not wanting to attempt to kick down the door in fears of him being reported to the police once more or worse, his doctor deciding he was relapsing, Gordon wandered around, trying to find the caretaker of the apartment complex. In luck, the office was open and there was someone there. “Hey.” He knocked on the partially ajar door, making it swing out further and widen the gap. “Sorry, I’m looking for Joe Macmillan, apartment 304? If you could help me out, I can’t get a hold of him.”

“Oh you can’t get a hold of him?” The sturdy man jumped up, obviously having more energy than it was necessary. “That makes two of us. Though I must tell you, I’ve given up on the rent when I threw him out onto the street the week before this one. All highty-mighty, pretentious, all just words of the fancy kind, yet paid nothing for the last four month! We need a steady income around here if you know what I’m meaning. Now what can I do for you fella? Ye some kin of his?”

“You threw him out onto the street?” Gordon repeated the only information in the Southerner’s gabble that held any interest for him. Of course, he should’ve realised, why didn’t he realise how dire Joe’s situation was? The salesman didn’t even put up a false front like other times. He had no money, no prospects, no billionaire wife, no furniture, no morale left, no friends, no job or the possibility to find one. He did sound upbeat with the occasion of that phonecall, but Joe was so changeable, hanging onto a thread of possibility and making it big in his mind. Did he really believe the things his grandiose tendencies made him say himself on occasion? And then he had to crush Joe’s optimisms. The thought made Gordon panic. Joe was either sleeping on the streets or worse. “Is there any chance you could open the door for me?” Gordon managed to pull himself together to ask. “Maybe I could find some indication in there where he had went, like correspondence or something?” He hoped. 

“Knock yourself out,” the man stepped over to a row of hanging keys and handed him one. “The apartment is empty at any case. Just bring me the thing back, ye hear?” He shouted after the quickly departing engineer. 

Gordon wasn’t quite running, he told himself not to be ridiculous and not to. His hands did shake however when he unlocked the door and it wasn’t because of his illness, he was sure of it this time. The smell was overpowering as soon as he made one move towards the inside of the apartment, acrid, putrid, revolting, despite the open window and the breeze that played with the thin, largely see-though curtains. Gordon’s first guess was that Joe must’ve left some food out that went off, but then he saw the barefoot legs before long as he turned the corner round the counter. “Joe!” He shouted in terror at the sight, but froze, not daring to move. 

His friend was lying on the matrass on his side in what could only be his own urine and vomit and Gordon didn’t want to think what else, unmoving, his skin a blueish hue, evidence all over beside him-alcohol and medicine bottles, some broken, all empty. The engineer rubbed his forehead roughly with his palm and squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, his subconscious making an attempt at unseeing, his heart beating as loud as steam engine. No. No! He did not want to find Joe’s dead body. A steadying breath and his mind told him there was something he could do, perhaps his ex boss was still saveable. The vomit had to be a good sign as some of whatever Joe had taken had been expelled. Trying to avoid the dried, nauseating puddles, Gordon knelt by his friend, his attention already on detecting any signs of breathing. 

There wasn’t one. Or maybe too shallow to detect, not without touching him, he encouraged himself. “Joe. Fuck,” he grunted in exasperation, taking another moment to gather himself before he felt for a pulse at the other man’s exposed wrist, long and hard and fraught, readjusting his hold a few times before he found it. He jumped and ran this time, reaching the telephone in no time to dial 911.

Tbc


	2. Usage

Chapter 2: Usage 

Donna met her husband on the hospital corridor, frowning in disapproval, “when you didn’t pick the kids up from school and then you were nowhere to be found and the hospital called, I could only think something bad had happened. Joanie, Haley, sit down over there by the wall.” 

“Something bad did happen,” Gordon gestured towards Joe’s room. 

“You know what I mean,” Donna nodded at him in a suggestive manner, “what were you doing at his apartment anyway.”

The bearded man grit his teeth, irritated, “it doesn’t matter now.” Joe tries to kill himself and yet he himself still ends up in the bad books with the wife somehow. 

“Do you really think it was attempted suicide?” Donna pressed, looking innocent. 

“With two types of barbiturates and enough to put an elephant in a coma? I would think so. He had been lying there for days. Took something else as well, they’re not sure what, but it caused some bleeding in his stomach. The dehydration in itself could kill him, never mind the blood loss.”

“He didn’t know you were coming?” The redhead put forward.

“No, of course not!” Gordon exploded, “frankly, if all that’s happened to him was happening to me I would probably be thinking along the same lines. Cameron even managed to convince Sara to leave him.” The family man continued to blank Donna’s involvement. “He was homeless, but he must’ve copied a key to get into the place later.”

“I just think it might have been planned, you know, just like all his other schemes. Don’t you remember how he goes behind everybody’s backs and gets rid of, uses or sells anything he deems important if can put his hands on it?”

“What he was doing back then is irrelevant. Are you not listening? Who are you!” Her husband intoned loudly, exasperated, “cause you sure as hell aren’t the woman I married!” There they go, having an argument over Joe again. “I just said he was homeless. He almost died. He would have if I arrived any later.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Though she didn’t sound like it. She probably didn’t believe any of it. As if she would be wearing blinders and have been brainwashed by Cameron. Gordon transitorily cursed himself for allowing her to get him involved with the blonde as well. Extricating Donna from that influence will indeed require hard work and could maybe be more effectively done from the inside. 

“You saved him, that’s good. But I thought you were cutting all ties with him. It was the plan, moving forward, for us as a family.”

“I just had a really bad feeling about him, alright? If I didn’t listen to it he would be dead. Are you going to blame me for that?”

“Of course not,” Donna sighed. “I need to explain to Cameron why I’m not at work. What should I say?”

“Whatever you want. It’s not as if she’s going to suddenly feel guilty. Can you not take the girls to your parents’? They will hardly see them after we move. This is their chance to spend some time together.”

“We’re still moving then.” The redhead established, the question appearing in her mind testament to how shaky the marriage really was.

“Why wouldn’t we.” Gordon was calming down, his flip out overblown, “I want to sit with him Donna. Let him know someone’s there when he wakes up. You don’t know how depressed and disheartened he was.” He put his foot down on that one. 

“Okay,” she relented, uncertain. His being adamant put the doubt in her mind. It was hard to imagine Joe losing dynamism and enthusiasm for his silly projects, but what if what Gordon said was true, if she and Cameron caused this, truly? It wasn’t in fact meant to go this far. “I’ll try my parents.” Donna waved the girls over. “Let me know how it’s going.” She turned back, expression apprehensive. 

Tbc


	3. Prospects

Chapter 3: Prospect 

With only the small night light on to the side of Joe’s bed and noises of rushing about medical workers settling down to a mere murmur he could hear coming from the break room, Gordon was contemplating going home for a few hours of sleep. If he didn’t, Donna will be on his case again, besides, he was told there was no change in Joe’s condition and there was no imminent expectation that it would change either. He cleaned his glasses in preparation to go when a man with a thinning hairline, wearing a doubtlessly expensive suit and tie rushed in, addressing the only other person in the room who could respond after a short survey of the surrounds, “what has the psycho done now!” He demanded agitatedly. 

Gordon felt the need to quickly rise and place himself between the angry man and his friend. “Who are you?” He frowned at the newcomer.

“I’m Timothy Bondham, Vice at Stokes Capital. Joe was supposed to realise a project for me we were to invest a lot of money in, but it seems like he’s initiated the self-destruct sequence on this one too!”

Gordon shifted fretfully. When will people stop blaming Joe for everything? “I will let him know you’ve stopped by when he wakes,” he hoped to demilitarise the situation, and more importantly, get rid of the very unhelpful visitor.

“And who are you?” The man questioned testily.

“I’m his friend,” the engineer felt the need to underline, “Gordon Clark.”

“Ah, so you do in fact exist in relation to working with Joe! That takes the cake. I wasn’t sure if he was pissing on my leg and telling me it’s raining. But then again, he would call an alligator a lizard. I’m assuming you will oversee the programming yourself? I must say that the board decided to allocate the ten million based on your solid credentials, as opposed to Joe’s and there was no way we were going to sign the contract without you. Well written code, I was told, both the virus and anti-virus.”

Gordon blinked slowly. Did Joe sell his floppies for 10 million? That was impossible. But then again, it was Joe. Son of a bitch. Finding out more without giving the game away would be good. Not to mention the money. Surely he’s due the most of that? “Thank you. I can overtake what needs to be done while Joe is in hospital,” he assured, though avoided looking into the man’s eyes. He wasn’t that good of a lier.

Bondham nodded, “very well. I’m glad I came, I will tell you, I was going to start panicking. Come into the office tomorrow, pick up your five million, we had all the papers prepared for over a week. We need to talk about when you can schedule the new anti-virus product.”

“Sure thing,” Gordon played along, finally understanding what Joe meant with every word during that phone call. Five million. Damn. He said no to five million without knowing and because he said no, Joe wasn’t going be able to go through with the deal either.

The banker started towards the door, pleased, but then stepped back, letting confusion spread over his face. “Joe though. He’s an enigma and always a surprise. Why did he do this again?” He gestured towards the bed. “The man is a mess.”

“I’m not sure…” Gordon admitted. He knew Joe could get hold of money, potentially, a lot of money, so one less reason for someone to off themselves, though most of the other motives still remained. “But I will find out,” he promised himself, and his friend. Somebody had to take care of Joe, now more than ever. 

Tbc


	4. Integral

Chapter 4: Integrity 

Donna knocked on Cameron’s bedroom door, then knowing better, that the younger woman will probably have her ear phones on, the engineer inched in, making sure she wasn’t stumbling on something she wasn’t meant to. But the sight was pretty normal, Cameron banging at her keyboard as if raptured, hair a mess and wearing her clothes from yesterday, coffee mugs all around. It was a fair assumption that the younger woman didn’t have an ounce of sleep, nothing unusual there either. Still, Donna was somewhat reluctant shaking her out of her stream of consciousness given the circumstances and just stood behind the monitor for a while.

“Shit!” Cameron exclaimed, looking up by chance, “you scared the crap out of me!” She complained. “Was it something you wanted?” The currently blonde sorely needing a repeat dye lowered her ear phones, noting the red still standing right across from her with an expression that didn’t promise much good.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here yesterday,” Donna started.

“Yeah, whatever,” the younger woman waved her off. Surely she was going to go offensive on the other just before Donna’s husband was providing them with the cheque to buy their mainframe.

“I was hoping to talk to you about Westgroup,” the musician turned computer specialist was edging into the subject carefully.

“Why? They cannot do anything, right?”

Donna shook her head and frowned, “do you think there’s any chance Joe didn’t know about Westnet?”

“Why is that important right now?”

“Because if he didn’t, we kind of landed him in a lot of trouble.” Donna ventured awkwardly. There was that nagging feeling, not quite guilt, but unpleasant all the same.

“So? Serves him right. Besides, I’m sure Mr. billionaire Wheeler can afford a few millions loss at the hands of his son in law. Look, do we need to talk about Joe, cause I’ve got this idea that I need to write down before I forget,” Cameron looked squarely at her business partner. 

Donna took a big breath in, letting it out as she spoke, “maybe, sometimes, we should think about consequences before we act. I’m not saying this is a black and white causational situation. I just thought that you should know that Joe is in hospital in a coma. Overdose. There was a suicide letter in his pocket addressed to you, but Gordon doesn’t want to give it over,” she winced, “he said you don’t deserve it.”

“What?” Cameron let go of the earphones she otherwise would’ve been on her way to place onto her ears. 

“I don’t know what’s in it either.” Donna offered. 

Cameron opened and closed her mouth, unsure of what she should be feeling. Joe couldn’t commit suicide, could he? For a moment, she wondered about those injuries. Was the mom story ever true? Or did he try to kill himself before? The scars looked fresh enough for it to be a possibility, not a childhood accident. She shook her head, trying to concentrate on the present. “What about that woman. Sara.” 

“According to Gordon, she left him because of what everybody thought he did to her father’s company.”

The blonde pulled her hands between her legs nervously. She bit her lip, her eyes moving quickly from left to right as she tried to make sense of the situation. Cameron never gave much consideration to what would happen to Joe, bar for the stray thought that reassured her he deserved whatever came his way and a sense of satisfaction that she’d got one over him and if she would’ve really had to guess, she would’ve been sure he would fall on his feet sooner or later. This, this was kind of a shock. It wasn’t due to conscious reasoning when her chest felt tight and her breathing became erratic, “will he live?”

Tbc


	5. Once upon a Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cameron is confused.

Chapter 5: Once upon a Time

Cameron buried her hands in her khaki coat’s deep pockets as she walked down the corridor towards what she was told was Joe’s hospital room, not really sure what she was doing, why and why she’d ended up there. Despite her chronic, creativeness related sleep deprivation, the Joe situation had been laying heavy on her mind and she was unable to clock in on her usual round five hours of sleep. Both thoughts and feelings a confusingly swirling fog, part of her hoped to find clues and the dissipation of the confusion in this building, though she was not sure how that could be achieved either. All she knew was that it felt somehow justified to be upset and that she had to be here, but what exact part of the situation caused the disturbing emotion, she did not know either.

A few steps away from the door however, she came to a sudden halt. While she could not see the entirety of the room, most of the bed was in her sight and it froze her, hands starting to shake hidden inside her pockets. So much wrong with this picture. Joe was strong, ruthless and a survivor, full of life, ideas and barely containable vibrancy, he wasn’t this shell of barely human looking form needing all these wires and equipment to keep him alive, unresponsive, unmoving and with a greying skin, a dummy that had no purpose and intent of its own, to be kept breathing just because others chose so. It made no sense whatsoever. Could it be true that she didn’t know Joe after all, that she didn’t know him at all? Prompted by that curious thought that asked for itself to be tested, Cameron stepped into the room, planning to sit down by him. She knew it could not be a two sided exchange, but there were some things the dyed blond had in mind to say, question, ask, demand and claim if she was going to get some clarity. 

An irate Gordon stood in her way however, fretful and inwardly glad he’s decided to come back to the hospital after a day of running around and finalising preparations for getting his anti-virus program writing team up to speed. Joe had always been good at finding the right people he had to admit, so all there was left to do was signing the paperwork and finding them a space to work. Gordon had every intention to take part in the creative process himself, but not while Joe was still critical, not while his wife had no idea of his by the way well superior, serious money-making business. Dare Donna to object to a minimum of five million dollars, having helping Joe in the meantime as a by-product or not. Which brought him to the situation where he was standing between the ex lovers. “What are you doing here?” He questioned, the same way as Cameron did on not one occasion when the spectacled man let himself in into her house. 

From the feel of the Mexican standoff, it was hard to fathom how Donna or any of them imagined Gordon and the owner of Mutiny would be able to work together, side by side or as much as in the same building. Cameron wasn’t known for compromises, so how much freedom would any of them have, even if the money invested to buy the mainframe gave the Clarks almost half of the shares, that was a big question. It was something Gordon was willing to overlook for the time being for the family’s sake, only current antagonisms were already testing the truce, never mind the big secret. “Joe would not want you here right now.”

“I just…wanted to see it for myself,” Cameron gave as explanation, “it’s kind of hard to believe, you know.” She nodded to underline the observation. “How is he?” She tried her good-natured side.

“People tend to get hurt when others cold-bloodedly and uncaringly trample all over them,” Gordon supplied hostilely.

“You didn’t seem to be all considerate when you unleashed Sonaris and almost wiped out Mutiny.” 

“It’s not the same.” The bearded man established, “what I did was by accident, what you did with it was premeditated and inconsiderate, collateral damage be damned, including your own subscribers who were unwittingly using Westnet. Why would Joe want to overtake your company and on top of it be devastated about it when it happens?” He defended his friend. “He was suicidal, I saw it, I knew it and yet I didn’t do enough,” he agonized exasperated, glancing back at the prone form. 

The young woman looked on, helpless and at a loss, just as confused as before. She still wanted to understand, get past this mental block. Arguing with Gordon and blaming Joe wasn’t going to get her there. “What’s in the letter?”

Gordon sighed, “I wasn’t going to give you the letter. But when I think about it, on the long term it would probably help, changing your view of him. Joe isn’t the enemy you need to crush down, over and over,” he dug into his own trousers’ pocket and pulled out a scribbled on page that most likely came from a writing pad, the handwritten suicide note with her name clearly on top in Joe’s pointy letters. “He would’ve done anything for you. Anything you wanted.”

Cameron did have the good sense not to say anything this time, her attention absorbed by the folded over piece of paper. It was as if her fingers were burnt by the note and yet she kept it closed till she wordlessly ambled slowly all the way over to the waiting area. Glad to find it empty bar for a man sleeping and slumped over, she sat down and had to psyche herself to roll the paper out flat. A suicide note would not be something people read every day:

"

I am not an echo. But the voice is fed up speaking, fighting against the tide, it’s impossible.  
I see things not one other person predicts, I have ideas of how the world could be, how we as the human race could be more.  
But apart from maybe Gordon, nobody would see the real me.  
Being open doesn’t make people see how there’s a lot of goodness in me, all it does is just leaving me exposed and subject to malevolence and hurt. I deserve better and I can’t take it anymore. 

And yet, I am unable to hate you.

Love,

J.

"

Cameron bit her lips and closed her eyes, hyperventilating, the letter folding over on its own accord as her fingers became numb and uncoordinated. She didn’t like that letter, not at all. Although Joe mentioned ‘people’, it really sounded like she was the main cause of why he took those pills, whether it was for attention, or effect or he really wanted to die. It made her angry. It wasn’t a responsibility she was willing, or ready to take, her mind refused the blame. There was no way she was going to contemplate that. The blonde stood, agitated, needing air. 

The letter ended up in her pocket. She had half a mind just to leave it on the seat, but in the spur of the moment, it didn’t feel right. It would’ve been as if she would personally be throwing Joe’s life away as if it wasn’t worth scrap. One step too far.

Tbc


	6. Shield

Chapter 6: Shield

Gordon was at his new, top secret anti-virus writing base’s headquarters when the hospital called two days later. It was the number he had given for where they could reach him if he wasn’t around, much preferable to his home phone number as he was barely at the house anyway and preferred if his wife was involved as little as possible for the time being (not to mention Donna’s own preferences). He had been told as an ultimatum that their marriage would not survive more secrets and yet he could not proceed any other way for fear of the project being shunned and put in jeopardy, and possibly Joe’s life with it. He couldn’t abandon it, he couldn’t abandon him now. Gordon had a lot of time to think while sitting by the hospital bed and was aware of the most likely decisive fork in the road of a gamechanger magnitude, but given that he knew he could not live with himself not having a clear conscience if his friend committed suicide, the choice wasn’t that much of a hard one. Any time he tried to imagine it differently, it came back to that scenario.

Knowing he didn’t have much time before the California move was imminent and forced on him, Gordon set about the quick installation of a computer system throughout the floor rented in the newly inaugurated Bank of America Plaza that would allow work to be started even without the presence of Joe or Gordon. In the middle of a brainstorming session with his new employees on the first project he set out for them-backing and restoring hard disks, the spectacled man got the phone call to get to the hospital if he wanted to be there when Joe regained full consciousness. 

His rush was however somewhat unnecessary, Joe came to awareness gradually and was at an eerie stage of having his eyes opened, but not responding to the outside world. Gordon would’ve been very worried if he would’ve not been told this was not completely unusual since parts of the brain were shut down for a few days and they still didn’t know what sort of damage the drugs and the high level unconsciousness really did, but the engineer did try nevertheless with renewed effort, prompting him with words and recounting of memories, their time together at Cardiff, that first sales call, where Joe both annoyed the hell out of him and blew him away with his sales pitch. The irony of the situation did not escape him-ten million safely in the bank for two men: one with certain, another with potential brain damage and suicidal tendencies. If Stokes Capital did their homework properly, they certainly would’ve not trusted him as guarantor for delivering either. The bearded man couldn’t help but shake his head and tither at that, it was hilarious, clearly.

“Gordon?” The voice was weak and higher pitched than what you would expect from Joe, but he turned his head towards his visitor and looked at Gordon perplexedly.

“Oh, hey!” The shorter man reached to squeeze the hospital patient’s arm, “you son of a bitch! I knew you’d pull though! You wouldn’t be Joe Macmillan if you didn’t!”

“What happened?” Joe searched his surroundings with a blank look.

“You don’t remember?” Gordon’s enthusiasm dropped a few notches. He wasn’t keen on being the one telling him he tried to commit suicide if he didn’t remember. “I’ll get the doctors. They’ll do the proper neurological tests, don’t worry. Main thing is you’re awake.”

“No,” Joe grabbed hold of his friend’s arm, “I remember…I mean how did you…I had been aware, able to think, for hours I think before I could show it. It’s a really strange state. Unpleasant, creepy…I thought…I thought you were going to California. Who called you to come here?”

“Nobody. It was kind of the other way round,” Gordon explained, “and I’d rather you don’t do that again. You scared the crap out of me. For like a terrifying minute, I believed I was staring at your corpse.”

Joe would’ve sunk into his pillows if he wasn’t already nigh completely horizontal, and would’ve paled if he had blood in his cheeks. Gordon saw him, at his very worst, somewhere where there wasn’t more to go further down. “How are you feeling?” The older man probed.

The younger gave a noncommittal gesture, “like I cannot scratch the pins and needles off the entirety of my back and like I wanna yank out that stick that’s inserted in my dick. Why is one of my hands restrained?” Joe appeared to be starting to get tense. Maybe memory and awareness wasn’t such a good thing. 

“It’s so you don’t run off and do yourself harm. They couldn’t know how you’d react when you woke. But we can just press the call button and I’m sure it can all be taken care of,” Gordon mollified, “food is quite good in here, I’ve spent the night myself not so long ago,” he encouraged, hoping for further improvement for Joe. Maybe they could just go past the incident and forget about it. Perhaps the best tactic. Thankfully Joe wasn’t long enough or deep enough in a coma for there to be lasting damage from that at least that he could tell.

“Food.” Joe parroted. Like he cared about that.

“Yes. Mash with actual butter and jellos and yoghurts of all varieties. And then I will have a few questions of my own,” Gordon ventured.

“I’m not hungry.” The younger man established moodily. 

Gordon sighed. Seeing as the other didn’t volunteer many words, he kept the momentum going instead. He could think of one good way of getting Joe responsive, interested in the world and back on his feet, “so partners with equal executive controls, but I make all technical decisions and hold one dollar more than half the capital. That’s what I asked from Tim anyway. Oh, and we call the product after me,” he listed his conditions, showing he was on first names basis with the vice of Stokes Capital.

Joe opened his eyes wide at that, really opening them to the world for the first time since he regained consciousness. “You know about that arse Bondham?”

“I signed everything. It’s all been dealt with and rolled out while you were playing Sleeping Beauty.”

The younger man shook his head, “are you sure? What about your family?”

“Donna will just have to support her husband,” Gordon claimed, “like I’ve supported her with her ventures lately.”

“Don’t make that same mistake I’ve been making, Gordo. Putting work in front of your most important relationship. I would not ask you to do that.” Joe showed that while he had been angry with his friend for not joining him before, he understood the reasons behind it.

“I’m not doing it for you. If Donna won’t understand this, then my marriage must’ve been over already before this. I’m talking about you and me, together, partnering again, what do you say?” Gordon held out his hand for a shake.

Joe squinted, hardly believing his luck changing. He couldn’t help but grin as he raised his weakened, shaking fingers and reciprocated the handshake surprisingly strong and wholehearted. He had rarely thought about his business partner that way, but at this moment, he would’ve wanted to kiss the other man.

Gordon nodded to himself. He knew it wouldn’t take much to get Joe going again. “Let me call for the doctor okay?” He encouraged. “We should see about you getting better and back in business.”

Tbc


	7. Stiff

Chapter 7: Stiff

Gordon had been putting off talking to Donna as he considered it the hardest part of his whole plan, but it couldn’t be put off any longer. She had been packing his stuff away for one, putting the house on the market, and he needed those for a little bit longer, like the girls would probably be happier to stay at their old school with their friends for a while longer. Once the new anti-virus software venture was taking off, which judging by pre-orders it very well would, and it was somewhat self-perpetuating or Joe was well enough to run it, Gordon should be able to visit the family as often as possible or even relocate to California with the whole company as well. There should be nothing stopping it, he only needed some time.

What he did not want was the kids having to experience another argument between their parents. So after dropping them off at school, instead of going to the hospital or their starting up business, Gordon turned the car back home where he knew Donna was in the middle of packing. She looked up at him, weary. His facial expression, the fact that he was there and placed his keys on the counter, was spelling trouble. And she had a nagging suspicion this was about Joe Macmillan, again. “What is it?” She set down the ceramic dancing figurine she was wrapping for the moving truck.

“Can you come sit down?” Gordon sat on the edge of couch, leaning forward, fingers clasped together and grinding. It didn’t look good at all. 

Compelled by her suspicions, Donna was already moving that way. No way this was going to be a conversation that could be dealt with casually. “Is it bad news?” Gordon had been all about Joe lately and given the circumstances that planted a seed in her mind about herself being partially guilty for the situation, she passively allowed her husband’s new obsession for the time being. She was aware that Joe had woken up the night before, but he had been critical just a couple of days ago and you never knew with these things.

“Donna. How much is it exactly you need for the mainframe?” Gordon fixed a steady gaze on her.

“Why? Well, I made a list of what we need to fix it up too, priced it and what it comes to altogether would be about 450 thousand. I know it’s a lot, but it would be the company’s main material asset and Cameron would give 50% of her shares for it. And you know yourself, you yourself measured up the potential of such a venture,” she held tentatively, not really sure where this was going. If it wasn’t about Joe, did Gordon start to have second thoughts about Mutiny? “If you don’t want to work with Cameron on the long term, that’s fine as well, we will wait and see.” Community’s inventor was willing to compromise some if the deal was getting shaky. 

“Why do you need me to fix the mainframe?”

“Because I can’t do it? Because it’s hard to trust an outsider and they will charge you an arm and a leg? Because I want us to work together like we used to? I explained already, I don’t think we’ll make it if we stay on different paths,” Donna went on the offensive this time. 

“Okay, okay,” Gordon gave a weak shake of the shoulders, “I will fix your mainframe,” he sighed, pulling out his chequebook. “Why don’t we make it an even 500 thousand.” He scribbled the zeros, finding it hard to believe he could simply throw money around like that.

“You don’t need to give that to us right now,” Donna opposed, bewildered. The feeling of wrongness in her intensified. 

“Just take it,” Gordon waved the bit of paper, grimacing dismissively, “give it to Cameron or whatever you need to do with it. I will come fix the mainframe. It will probably only take a few days, but you gotta understand, I need to stay back a bit here with Joe. He has nobody Donna and I don’t think he will make it on his own. I’m his only link to normality and sanity, which is ironic in itself, but there you have it. He can’t just turn a switch and be doing well all of a sudden you know when his entire life was destroyed,” the bearded man explained nervously and diffidently. Too much was at stake, on both accounts. 

Donna rolled her eyes. Joe being victimised to this extent didn’t sit well with her as she thought he did have a good hand in where he ended up, even if she now had doubts whether releasing Sonaris and using him to do so was morally acceptable. Joe was still toxic and she wanted nothing to do with him, but it seemed like compromises were needed for the sake of Mutiny and perhaps her marriage. “You want to come back for a couple of weeks after fixing the mainframe till he’s more back on his feet?” It was her last offer. 

“A couple of weeks,” Gordon agreed, “maybe more.” That would’ve been sufficient to avoid arguments for the time being, but it wasn’t right to keep the secret veiled any longer. “It’s actually that I’m going to work a little bit here as well. Try out some ideas, hire some people, get the ball rolling…”

“What are you talking about?” Donna expressed dismay and consternation.

“Joe can’t take care of business just now so I’m going to pitch in.” Gordon held good-naturedly. 

The redhead’s eyes went wide and she jumped, agitated, “what? At Westgroup? I don’t believe it! Joe is awake for less than 24hrs and he manages to coax you into jumping into business with him? What about our family?” She opposed.

“No, I told you, Joe doesn’t work for Westgroup anymore. And even if he would’ve, he would’ve been fired after the meltdown. A new start-up company, ours. The idea was mine, but he extended it. We are going to develop a complete software suite that will search disks and databases for all of the known viruses currently in circulation and adapt it for including new ones as we go that will remove…”

Donna held up a hand, “I don’t care what it is because you’re not going to get involved. You’re supposed to be coming with us to California, isn’t that what we agreed? Now I don’t even think you should stay here with him for a couple of weeks, who knows what he’s going to put in your head next!”

Gordon didn’t bother to talk. He simply pulled out another check, released by Stokes Capital, just one dollar over five million. Certainly, that was mostly for backing the development of the new product, but it was in his name and he could practically do with it whatever he wanted. 

His wife inched backwards suspiciously, sitting back down to be able to look at the numbers properly. She looked at it a few times and checked Gordon’s facial expression as well for clues. There were none. “What scam is this?”

Tbc


	8. Reverse

Chapter 8: Reverse

Donna took the few stairs leading up to Cameron’s house slowly. Neither the conversation with Gordon, the drive around or the long brain wrecking in the supermarket parking lot helped clear her mind. The emotional part of her brain told her she had every right to be angry. Gordon went behind her back, kept secrets from her again, secrets to do with Joe out of all possibilities and changed their agreement on the terms of how to try to sort their marriage. On some semi-conscious level she was aware that she was being ridiculous for being peeved on the Stokes Capital front-she and Cameron had practically begged for funds no more than 33 grand, got ridiculed and questioned on their commitment and family situation and then that sexist pig gives two men obscene amounts of money for an idea that isn’t superior to hers. Outrageous! The rational part of her brain said money, a lot of money in fact. Can anybody be seriously saying no to that? She came to a halt in the hall as she sighed and shook her head at the predicament, surrounded by the normal chaos and noise that was Mutiny. 

“Donna! Donna!” The redhead became aware that a rather pale Cameron was waving her over from round her bedroom door. It was only after the younger woman strode over to grab hold of her and pulled her into a quiet corner of the kitchen that the blonde spoke of why she wanted to talk. “How is he?” Came the nervous and tentative question from the coder as she crossed her arms. Donna was the closest person to the situation that she could ask.

The redhead sighed. She wasn’t sure how Cameron was going to react to the whole story either. “He woke up.” Donna started reluctantly. 

“And?” Cameron leaned forward, eyes widening in persuasion for more information, “is he okay?” Ever since reading the suicide letter, she had gotten more and more nervous. If she couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt before, it had engulfed with full force since. It made her jumpy and itching to occupy herself, but not managing to as much as sit at her desk for any useful amount of time in terms of coming up with code.

“I think so.”

“You don’t know?” Cameron’s questions came in quick succession without giving her conversation partner time to think much. 

“Well, Gordon was late and I was half asleep.” 

“Did he say anything about me?”

“Not that I know of?” Donna tilted her head suspiciously. “What is this? Why do you want to know? I came to talk to you, but now I’m confused even more,” she agonised, “after all we’ve done, after all he’s done, do you have feelings for him still?”

“Hell no,” came Cameron’s quick response before she stopped herself to lean back onto and half sit on the edge of the table. It was clear there was more to come. “No. Yes, I mean I guess everybody has that one guy, this one other person you can’t quite scrub out your soul, whether it’s good or bad that is staining it, right?” Donna gave a noncommittal shrug. She didn’t have significant exes and she had no idea how she will feel about Gordon, well, after. She had no idea how to feel about Gordon at the present moment, never mind anything else. 

“What is it you needed to talk to me about? Is it about Joe?” Cameron pressed.

“Ah,” Donna took the cheque Gordon made out earlier from her blazer’s pocket and gave it to her business partner. “I know it’s more than you’ve asked for, but it will maybe also have to cover the costs of hiring someone to fix the mainframe. Gordon isn’t coming, at least not for very long. He wants to stay here and help Joe.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay, that’s good,” Cameron was fingering the strip of paper in her hand. Inviting Gordon to Mutiny was not her idea, but mostly she felt relieved that someone will be there for Joe. Responsibility taken care of and she didn’t have to be the one to deal with it. With who the suicide letter was addressed to, she had been worried she would have to be involved at some level.

Donna looked on a little perturbed. It wasn’t fair she had to go through a great amount of emotional turmoil and Cameron was just taking everything in her stride. “One more thing. You know how you wanted Joe out of our lives…”

“But not like that!” The younger woman objected immediately, “I never wanted him to kill himself!”

“He won’t be out of our lives,” Donna grimaced, “not while I’m still with Gordon that is.”

Cameron gave a one shouldered, incredulous shrug, “they are good friends. You don’t just want him to close his eyes to what had happened,” she held strongly.

The redhead stared for a moment, a hand on hip. It was hard keeping up with her business partner’s 180 changes on the Joe front. First she’s in love with him, then she doesn’t want anything to do with him and distrusts him to the extreme, then she believes something just cause Joe said so, then she doesn’t trust him again, then she defends his side. “Sonaris. Gordon is helping Joe build a company that produces defence systems against Sonaris or any other virus. They have received 10 million dollars funding. I wouldn’t have believed it, but I’ve seen the check, Gordon’s share that is. A piece of paper, like any other, worth 5 million.”

It was Cameron’s turn to stare and narrow her eyes suspiciously, “you’re kidding, right?”

Donna shook her head, trying to convince the younger coder. The blonde’s mouth, slowly turned up, into a smile, then a grin, a guffaw, then a full blown laugh. How ridiculous it had been being worried about Joe. “Cameron?” Her friend questioned, not understanding the reaction. The younger woman rarely laughed with this intensity when she wasn’t drunk. “I’m glad you find this funny, but what is, exactly?” She almost stomped in frustration. 

“What’s the problem, Donna?” Cameron slowed down her titters. It was such great news that she didn’t have to feel guilty anymore.

“The problem is that I don’t recognise my husband. Gordon has not been the Gordon I’ve known ever since Joe popped up at Cardiff.”

“Sounds like the new company will have nothing to do with us,” Cameron contemplated her point of view.

“Yes, that is exactly my problem, can you see. My husband wants to work away from me again and I can’t seem to bring myself to care enough.”

“That should be an answer in itself, don’t you think?” Cameron advised, peeking round the corner, “I know you’ve been listening, Bos, could you cash in this cheque?” She handed him the item. If the Clarks were indeed divorcing, it was urgent.

“I’m fixin to,” John reached for his hat, keeping his eyes on Donna. “Ten million you say? That boy can break bad and dill your pickle, but sure as hell got horse sense.”

“So what should I do?” Donna asked Cameron now that they were truly out of earshot of anyone, still in the same state of mind as when she arrived. 

Cameron shrugged, “you’re coming to California. The rest will just have to sort itself out.”

Tbc


	9. Corporate

Five Months Later

Chapter 9: Corporate

Joe could see most of the desks in the main hall from his office through the partially glass wall, though what he needed at this point was usually in the room with him. Gordon insisted on not letting him out of his sight for the time being and so at the desk opposite from him, the engineer was intently hitting his keyboard repeatedly, pencilling something down occasionally on a piece of paper too, only partially hidden by his monitor. The older man was not aware how long Joe had been staring at him and so his business partner could ponder life unhindered. He did find both of them, Cameron and Gordon, helped them become what they were even if they themselves would not admit to it. But how could he be so blind not to see which one was the more valuable friend, partner, inventor. Gordon was adept at both hardware and software, forgiving, compassionate and loyal to a fault. All he needed was space from his own chaotic life and a goal, targets Joe could easily provide and they could soar together, reach previously unimaginable heights. Joe had no illusions about Gordon’s sexual orientation or tendencies even, but even so, he didn’t need to have sex to be happy. He was living through work anyway. And once Gordon’s divorce and custody agreement were finalised as well, he will be there more too. 

His telephone ringing jolted him out his trance. “John’s holding the line,” Debbie reported from outside the office. The same Debbie they used to have at Cardiff, who applied to work at Clark Macmillan Utilities as a secretary as soon as she heard about the venture. Of course nobody else was interviewed after that. 

“John?” Joe parroted incredulously, “you mean John, John?” Gordon looked up from his work.

“Bosworth, yeah. He sounds rather jittery.” The faithful secretary reported. She would not forget who gave her a personal computer for her own use at home and shares at Cardiff.

“Put him on the line,” the self-made CEO allowed tentatively. News of Cameron always unsettled him and he could already feel the nerves squeezing his stomach. “Hi there John, what a surprise.” He held his breath and waited for the other man to announce himself.

“Howdy, y’all,” John started good naturedly, “is that you stealing my secretary twice?” He purported.

“I guess Debbie just knows where she will be best appreciated,” Joe winked at the woman, seeing clearly through his glass wall that the PA was still on the phone too for another moment, “what can I do for you?”

“Ah, yes. Long time no see, how have you been?”

“Can we skip the pleasantries, John?” Joe advocated.

“Hold your horses son, it’s an honest question. I think about you a lot, is that hard to believe?”

“Hm, I’m well.” -Was as far as Joe would go. 

“Alright, good, I’m glad,” John held, “so I’m calling because you’d maybe be interested in buying a virus? Something for your inventory that you could put down to be dealt with for your anti-virus software. Well, this one’s not technically a virus, or so I’m told, it’s a glitch in the system, pretty much similar to Sonaris. The kids call it a logic bomb. It lay dormant in the game until it was triggered and now intended functions are disabled.”

“In theory, yes, we would be interested in every existent and possible computerised threat, but why would you be wanting to offer it to me? Does she know you’re calling?” Joe had difficulties saying the name lately. The only reason he was still on the phone was because he had respect for the other man for what he did for the Giant, and believing in the idea.

“No, she doesn’t know. You’re in the virus business, right? So how much you think is this knowledge worth in dollars, hm?”

“I don’t know, John, we would have to take a look at it. You can send the floppy over and we could evaluate. We will slot it into an isolated machine, just in case, you can let her know.”

“You think me as someone who would pull a trick like that? I didn’t approve of it the first time. As I said, Cameron doesn’t know about me calling. And we would need a provisional agreement signed first, cannot give information over for free, you understand.”

“That can be arranged,” Joe brushed it off, “if you tell me why you’re really trying to sell this to me.”

“Don’t you know me? I’m an honest businessman, I have nothing to hide. If I say a hen dips snuff, you can look under her wing for the can.”

“So come clean,” the younger man invited.

There was a longsuffering sigh at the other end, “I’m just really trying to manage the finances of this company, like I’m supposed to, right? It’s as if the whole world would’ve turned off its axis just in the short time while I was in jail. It’s crazy as bullbat. And I love this girl you one day pulled through the door at Cardiff, I love her like she was my own, but damn, is she ornery like herding cats! Community is a good idea, but the growth is very slow and Cameron’s been concentrating on this one game, all our efforts, the one with the glitch…”

“You spent all disposable income and have no idea how to fix the virus,” Joe supplied, “and you were hoping my coders would.”

“Well, there’s that…” John admitted. 

“You want me to bail the company out.” The younger man realised, “either with paying for the virus or figuring out how to counteract it, preferably both.”

“Look, I wouldn’t ask if there was anyone else…”

“Cameron’s company.” Joe breathed, starting to hyperventilate in his bubbling anger and incredulity, “as one tactical master before me has said, you can tell her this: frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”

Tbc


	10. Proxy

Chapter 10: Proximate

Joe walked over to Gordon’s desk and quietly dropped a floppy disk in front of him. “Just came in the mail. Do you think you could take a look at it?”

“Is this what I think it is?” His friend paused, looking up and slowly reaching out for the cased item.

“You don’t mind?” Joe asked earnestly. 

Gordon pursed his lips noncommittally, “giving a hand to my ex wife and the mother of my children? No, but I’m a bit surprised about you. What happened to ‘frankly my dear I don’t give a damn’?”

Joe shrugged, “it was first reaction. We are doing this incognito for the time being,” he explained, winking at the other man, “we can maybe be more straightforward about it if we find a solution if we decide so,” he offered in the modus operandi of his new style where he discussed everything with his partner.

“And then what?”

“It’s take or break for them, is it not?”

Gordon sighed, “I’m not sure I want to be in a permanent tug of war with Mutiny on who put one over who. And helping Mutiny for the sake of it doesn’t end well either, if you remember. What are you trying to achieve?” The engineer pressed.

“You’re saying I should give up?”

“No, heaven forbid, never give up, just…what was it you saw in Cameron again?”

“Can we keep that name in the same category as your brain damage-not to be talked about and thank you,” Joe turned to the list of potential buyers of their new product Debbie printed out for him.

Gordon grunted and hum-hoed as he disconnected his computer from their internal communication system and then inserted the floppy, well aware that he might need some input from co-workers on this one as video games were not his forte. All the same, given the resources and number of gifted coders they employed, the sheer numbers in themselves should give them an advantage over Mutiny and the talent there. “Joe?” He mused. The tall, smartly dressed man with a usually imposing presence looked rather funny chewing his pen, “I just want to say that it’s ok to do the right thing, regardless of consequences,” Gordon held.

The End.


End file.
